Too Far
by Little Miss Lovejoy
Summary: Helen notices Edna is still with Seymour even though she had left him at their wedding, and starts to get suspicious.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This story is set after Edna leaves Seymour but still during the time frame that she clearly was keeping him around. like, when for instance, they had sex in the golf course, which'll be mentioned later in the story so yeah. enjoy~!

* * *

Looking up from between the legs of the woman he wished he could call his own, Seymour said quietly, "You know, we have been doing this quite often. Are you sure there are no feelings for me in your heart?"

As he kissed her bellybutton, Edna shut her eyes. "No, Seymour."

"Not even a little bit?" he ran a hand along her thigh.

Edna sighed. "Look, jammie boy . . ."

Seymour looked down at his flannel pajamas. The pattern almost made it seem they belonged to a small child. "Is it the PJs? I can fix that . . ." he started unbuttoning the front of his shirt.

Edna bit her lip for a moment before barking, "Seymour, finish your job, or _you're_ not getting any!"

Seymour sighed and dipped his head back between the woman's legs.

"And don't you stop again!" she said before falling on her back again, closing her eyes in pleasure. "Please don't stop," she whispered, stroking the man's hair.

* * *

Upon hearing her last moan, knowing she had been completely spent, satisfied Seymour. Knowing her could still make her happy, if only in sex, meant the world to him. While it meant next to nothing to her, he would still do it again and again just to see the short lived smile on her face.

And there it was, on her face now—that smile he loved so much. He took that opportunity to take her hand and kiss her cheek before boldly kissing her lips. He knew at moments like this, were the only chance he would get to kiss her. Any other time, she would blatantly refuse.

Edna allowed this and found herself kissing him back, running her hand inside his shirt. It was moments like these that Seymour doubted Edna's lack of feelings for him, and as Edna felt butterflies in her stomach, she questioned her feelings for him. But she wouldn't admit that, though she allowed herself to kiss him with passion for a few moments before rolling on top of him and saying, "Your turn," with a grin.

Seymour glanced at the clock. "Well, we better hurry. Mother's going to be angry if I don't return home by 7:30. It's silhouette night, you know."

Edna stared at him in bewilderment. "Then why did you come in your pajamas!?"

"I was already in them. I saw no point in changing."

Edna groaned in frustration.

"I'm sorry my mother is such an angry woman . . ."

"Go home, Seymour."

"We still have time . . ."

"I said . . . go . . . home!" She said as she whacked him in the face with her pillow repeatedly before rolling off of him and sighing.

Seymour sighed sadly and stood up, buttoning his shirt back.

"Go!" she shouted, throwing a pillow at him.

"Yes, Edna," he said quietly, walking out of her bedroom.

As soon as he left, Edna couldn't help burst into tears. She assumed it was out of frustration, but she couldn't be sure. She hadn't even known what her motive was. Sex? If that was all, she could have had anyone in the snap of a finger so why choose Seymour? Perhaps it was familiarity, or was it something more?

* * *

Helen Lovejoy had gone on a late night run to the grocery store because her husband suddenly insisted she make a pie. She had said she would go to the store in the morning, but he wouldn't have that. She was flattered that he liked her pies so much, but this was a bit ridiculous.

On her way home, she noticed something as she passed Mrs. Krabappel's apartment—Principal Skinner leaving. Why had he been at her apartment? Were they back together? Helen would have to look into this, to satisfy her own desire to know everything about everyone.

Once she got back in the house, Tim appeared beside her, wanting to help put up the groceries.

"I didn't get much, Tim. I can handle it myself." She was expecting him to move along, but he stayed put. "Shoo, Tim!"

The way she was standing in front of the groceries as if she was guarding them made it seem like she was hiding something. "I insist," Tim said, reaching in front of her and pulling out—as he suspected—something out of the ordinary. "I did not ask for a case of wine, Helen."

Helen blushed a little and grabbed the case from him. "Well, it's not _for_ you! You wanted pie so I wanted something for myself."

"Helen," he reprimanded.

"I don't see why it's a big deal." After Tim rolled his eyes and went to sit down in the living room, Helen followed him and said, "Guess what I saw on my way home?"

"What?" Tim sighed, knowing gossip was headed his way.

"I saw Principal Skinner leaving Mrs. Krabappel's apartment!"

"So?"

"_So? _You were there at their wedding! Edna ran out on him!"

Tim shrugged. "Maybe they're back together. Good for them."

Helen pursed her lips. "Oh, you're no fun. I'm going to find out for sure!" She whipped back around and hurried back into the kitchen to start the pie—and to make some phone calls.

Many people got a call from Helen that evening—Luann van Houten, Lindsay Naegles, Elizabeth Hoover—everyone she could think of, and it was all new news to them. It wasn't until Marge Simpson got a phone call that Helen received any information in return.

Marge had been cleaning up the kitchen when the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Marge. It's Helen."

"Oh, hi, Helen!"

"I was just driving home and noticed Principal Skinner driving away from Mrs. Krabappel's apartment. Do you have any idea why he was there? Are they back together, do you think?"

Marge sat down at the kitchen table. "Well, about a week ago, one evening, we ran by her place to question a 100 on Bart's test," she laughed a little. "We didn't believe him, of course, and wanted it verified! Well, turns out, Mrs. Krabappel had left the map out, and it was a test on state capitals! So everyone got a 100."

"How careless of her."

"Yes, well, anyway, Principal Skinner was there! In his pajamas!"

"Oh my word! So they're back together?"

"I don't think so . . . Edna told us that it meant nothing."

"How interesting," Helen said thoughtfully. Having casual sex with her ex-fiancée. How disgusting! "Thank you, Marge."

"Happy to help!"

* * *

"SEYMOUR! It's about time you got here. You disgust me. I can't believe you're still seeing that slut."

"Mother, she is not a slut. And I'm hoping our relationship will advance again."

"She doesn't love you! You're a loser. Now come on, just stay here with mommy where you belong."

"You're the reason I'm in this boat in the first place," Seymour muttered.

"What was that? Seymour, you would be nothing without me, and you know it! Now march up to your room. I don't feel like playing tonight."

"But Mother!"

"MARCH!"

"Yes, Mother," the man sighed.

* * *

The next afternoon, the ladies' weekly book club meeting was being held at the Lovejoy's house. It was wrapping up and people were starting to leave, but Helen asked Edna to stay a moment.

"Is this about why I didn't read the book? Because I told you I've been busy."

"Oh, I'm _sure _you have," Helen chuckled.

"What is _that _supposed to mean?"

"_You _know."

"No, I don't know."

"You've been sleeping with your ex- fiancée," Helen said smugly.

"Edna narrowed her eyes. "How do you know about that?" After realizing who she was talking to, she held up a hand. "Never mind . . . I don't see what the big deal is."

"Of course it's a big deal! You should've just married the man!"

"That ship has sailed, sister."

"Then why are you still sleeping with him?"

Edna stood up. "I've had enough."

As she started to leave, Helen muttered, "Slut."

Edna turned around. "_Excuse me?_"

"You heard me," Helen shrugged and turned to go about her business, but seconds later, she felt her hair being pulled from behind. She froze.

Edna spoke in a low voice. "Don't you ever call me that."

Helen turned around and smiled. "I don't think you want to mess with me, Edna. I may be a Christian, but I can be vicious if I need to be. You don't want me to be vicious, do you?" The smile remained on her face.

Edna merely laughed. "Ha!"

Helen spoke in a low voice. "You know, I may know more about you than you think. I don't tell _all _of the secrets I know. I may just be waiting for the right moment to strike. I don't normally use my gossip for evil, but if you test me, I just might have to."

Edna glared at Helen. "You are a little bitch, aren't you?"

Helen smiled and whispered, "Strike two."

"What was strike one?" Edna raised an eye.

"Pulling my hair! It would be in your best interest to leave now, Edna."

"Gladly," the woman turned and started to leave.

"Don't let the door hit you on your way out," Helen said politely.

Edna slammed the door as she called back, "Go to Hell!"

"Strike three," Helen whispered. "Let the games begin."


	2. Chapter 2

Tim was busy counseling couples that afternoon, and Jessica was at soccer practice so Helen took that opportunity to go to her secret file. Though the file itself wasn't too secret; it was too big to be hidden. It was that was inside that was the secret, and she would never allow the key out of her sight.

It was always worn around her neck and under her sweater. She pulled it out now and went to her closet, pushing away the clothes that covered it. She knelt in front of the file cabinet and unlocked it, flipping through the K's to find Edna Krabappel's file. She had files on everyone. Some files—like Edna's and Marge Simpson's-were larger than others. Everything she had ever heard about anyone, she wrote down, mostly just for recording purposes, but some of it was for emergencies like this. Like she told Edna, she did not always spread everything. Some secrets were kept locked away until something happened and that secret needed to come out.

She calmly wrote down the new information before reading through her file. So much information was there on her. Edna had been with nearly every man—and at least one woman—in Springfield. Her divorce was nothing new to anyone, but it was certainly a sensitive topic and could be used against her.

Hm . . . what's this? Edna was a groupie with the Be Sharps? And she went on dates with Barney, Apu, and Seymour . . All eligible bachelors at the time . . .But what? Homer Simpson? Helen smirked. I had forgotten about this . . . Letting this out would upset Marge if Homer hadn't told her . . . But that is just a risk I am willing to take. She giggled.

She skimmed through the rest of the file before putting the file away. She had barely got it locked before she heard her husband's voice. "Ahh!" she exclaimed, nearly toppling over.

Tim raised an eye. "What are you doing, Helen?"

"Nothing," she said innocently.

"Mhm," Tim looked at her doubtfully.

"I thought you were counseling couples."

"Ah, Ned cancelled—thank God. Widowers appointments are always so ridiculous. Is there pie left?"

"I should hope so! I only made it last night," Helen laughed.

"Hey, you never know. It is really good pie."

"You've made that clear," she poked her husband's stomach with a giggle and kissed his cheek.

* * *

After school the next Monday, Seymour had begged Edna to go out with him on account of his birthday. She agreed—on one condition—that they go to one of the least romantic places possible—the mini golf course.

Edna wasn't sure how, but they ended up having sex inside one of the courses. When they were finished and had crawled out, Edna lit up a cigarette, breathing deeply. Why did I do this again? What am I doing? Maybe Helen had a point . . .

"You know, I still think about you all the time," Seymour said with a smile.

"Birthday's over, Seymour," she responded simply, walking away in a complete daze. She could hardly sort out her feelings. If she told Seymour she thought about him, too, it would not be a lie, but it would send her in the direction she had run away from, and she did not want that . . . did she?

Helen and Tim had been at the golf course with their daughter at the time, conveniently. Looking over and seeing Seymour and Edna, she knew what they had been up to. The condition of their hair and clothing made that clear. Still at it, are you, Edna? You'll have what is coming to you.

"Would you take your shot, Helen?" Tim said, getting annoyed.

She turned and apologized, taking her shot.

"You're up to something."

"Nothing out of the ordinary," she smiled.

"That doesn't comfort me in the slightest."

* * *

Edna was leaning back on her couch one evening, a half empty bottle beside her and a cigarette in her hand. The TV was on, but she was not paying attention to it. She had too much on her mind. She felt like she seriously needed help. She enjoyed having sex with Seymour—she always had; she just couldn't see herself with him for a lifetime—she couldn't look past the surface—he fact he was a weenie and his mother.

She barely had anyone she could confide in. Her mother was dead, she didn't know where—nor did she care where her father was, her sister had her own problems . . . She supposed she could confide in Elizabeth; they were pretty good friends. The only one she felt she could really open up to was Seymour, and he was the problem!

She lay back and stared at the ceiling, reaching over and putting out her cigarette. When the doorbell rang, she looked around with a sigh. As usual, her place was a bit of a mess, and she was in her robe. Eh, when do I EVER look decent anymore? "Come in!"

When Marge Simpson came walking in, she sat up, confused. "Is this about Bart? Did I wrongfully give him a good grade again?" she laughed.

"No, Mrs. Krabappel. This has nothing to do with Bart. It has to do with Homer." The woman looked angry.

"Homer? What did I do to him?"

"I don't know. You tell me. . . Do the Be Sharps mean anything to you?"

Edna frowned. "Marge, that was in the 80s. What does it matter?"

"Homer and I were married!"

Edna's eyes widened. "Suddenly things make sense."

"What? What did you do with my husband, you…you floozy?"

Edna sighed. "We did nothing. He wouldn't let me go home with him, and now I know why. He was married," She smiled, a long, lost mystery solved.

Marge's face softened. "You didn't?"

"All we did was have dinner, Marge. It was a publicity thing for the Be Sharps."

"Is that all?"

"Well, we might've kissed, but . . . "

Marge murmured irritably, but sighed. "Well, I'm just glad you didn't have sex with my Homey."

After an awkward silence, Edna asked curiously, "Marge , where did you hear this, anyway?"

"I heard it from my sisters, who heard from Lindsay Naegle, who heard from Helen Lovejoy!"

"Of course," Edna pursed her lips. Well, she would not let this get to her. After all, it had been cleared up. It had hurt no one in the end. Helen had failed!

* * *

However, the next day at school, Seymour confronted Edna at lunchtime. He walked into her classroom before she could head to the cafeteria. "Edna, I heard that you were with Homer Simpson during our Be Sharp days."

Edna sighed. "I didn't know he was married, okay?"

"Did you, um . . . have relations with him?" he nervously fidgeted with his tie.

"No, Seymour."

"Because you only had it with me, right?" he smiled, his eyes raised.

"Ha! In your dreams." She walked away, leaving him saddened. "And you were the worst of the whole lot!" she added, causing him to sigh and look at the ground.

* * *

She had a run in with Apu and Barney, too, both at the Kwik-E-Mart that afternoon. As she was buying a scratch 'n' win, Apu said in hushed tones, "Mrs. Krabappel, is it true that you were with Mr. Homer back in the day?"

Edna sighed sharply. "It was the god damn 80s. Why does everyone care? Yes, I went on a date with Homer; no, we didn't 'do it.' Yes, I was doing it with you, Barney, and Seymour at the same time. Get over it, and be grateful you had a girl at all!"

"I beg your pardon, Mrs. Krabappel, but as a member of a group such as the Be Sharps, I could have had any girl I wanted, as they were always chasing us down the streets. It just so happened that you were easy and had a nice caboose!" When Edna gasped, Apu added with a smile, "Thank you; come again!"

Barney appeared in line behind Edna, letting out a belch. "I was doing Edna Krabappel? Wow!" He had drank so much since that he couldn't remember.

Edna stared at Barney. "Never again, beer breath."

"Hey, that hurts!" Barney frowned.

Edna stormed out of the Kwik-E-Mart, infuriated. Why was everyone making such a big deal about this now? It was years ago.

* * *

Everywhere Edna went, she felt like she was being judged harshly. Even her students were whispering around her, eyeing her with looks that made her uncomfortable. She knew she never really had the best reputation in town. Some, she knew, viewed her as a slut, but suddenly it had gotten so much worse. Was she really 'easy' like Apu had said? That was bothering her so much.

When Seymour came in her classroom around lunch time, asking if she wanted to go do it in the auditorium, she snapped. "Why? Because I'm so easy?!"

"No . . . Because I just want to have sex . . ." he blinked, feeling awkward suddenly. "I wouldn't ever want to do it with anyone else . . ."

Edna sighed, frowning. "I know; I'm sorry, Seymour. I just don't feel like it right now."

Seymour merely nodded and left. After he had gone, she lay her head on her desk with a sigh.

Everyone else in this town thinks I'm a huge slut, but Seymour's just going on like normal, still wanting sex from me, knowing nothing will come out of it. I can't decide who is more pathetic—me or him . . .

She came to the conclusion that it was definitely her. She unlocked the bottom drawer of her desk, pulling out a bottle and a wine glass, pouring herself a drink. Here's to your pathetic life, Edna. She took a drink.

"Um, Edna?"

She quickly poured the glass in her coffee cup and shoved the bottle and glass back in her drawer. She cleared her throat and turned to the door. "Yes, Seymour?"

"Do you want me to bring you some lunch?"

"I'm not hungry."

Seymour walked back over to her. "Edna, I know the town is bringing you down, but please don't listen to them. There's always one person here that will always think you are perfect . . . and he's also available," Seymour grinned.

"Oh, goodie," Edna said, sarcastically, sighing.

Seymour frowned sadly and left her once again.

Edna really wished she could sort her feelings out. When she had left Seymour at the altar, she had still been so in love with him, but she didn't want to chance getting in another bad marriage. But now she was thinking any marriage would be better than none at all. Maybe she should have given it a shot-"taken that plunge" as he had put it. That term sickened her. At least if she'd married Seymour, she wouldn't be in her current situation-hopelessly wandering, dating anyone and everyone, but still keeping Seymour close. She came to the conclusion that she still did have an attachment to him, but what was she going to do?

* * *

A/N: The plot about the Be Sharps was from one of the Simpsons comics, one of the issues (I forget which) had a magazine thing at the end about the Be Sharps, showing Edna had been a groupie and showed that she had went on dates with all of them and rated them all. So I used that for this story. Yeah.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: The only thing we know about Edna's sister is that she exists, and Edna had to go get her out of a cult SO I had free reign with her when I brought her in this story. Okay~

* * *

The next book club meeting was at the Van Houten residence, and Edna had made a point to actually read the book this time. After she walked in the house, she could hear Helen talking all the way in the living room.

"You know she's still stringing along Seymour. I feel sorry for him! I wonder who else she's got strapped to her? I wouldn't doubt it if she still was stringing along her _ex husband!_" she laughed.

Her laughter was so mocking; like she was so proud to tell such things, to spread terrible assumptions about people.

Edna stormed into the room where the ladies all sat—Luann, Elizabeth, Lindsay, Marge, and of course Helen.

"Oh, hello, Edna," Helen smiled.

"You arrogant bitch!" Edna spat.

"Oh, you heard me talking?" Helen asked innocently.

"How dare you make assumptions about me!"

"Well, please correct me. _Are_ you still stringing your ex husband along?"

Her look was so smug, it sickened Edna. "Of course not!" She slapped the woman across the face.

Helen gasped and narrowed her eyes. "I don't think you should have done that. You're only making things worse for yourself."

"What more could you _possibly_ do, Helen? You've already ruined me!"

"Well, if you weren't such a s-l-u-t, then that wouldn't have happened!" Helen sung out.

"You know _nothing_ about me. _Stop_ talking like you know everything because you _don't_!"

"I know your immoral acts aren't going to get your sorry little butt into Heaven."

"That's _it_!" Edna lunged at Helen, knocking her to the ground.

As much as Helen hated violence, she wasn't going to just allow Edna to hurt her without defending herself. As they were rolling in the ground, slapping each other and pulling hair, the other women stood up and backed off a bit, wide eyed. Mrs. Van Houten stood up on a chair, with her hands on her cheeks in horror. "Such violence in my house! You better be glad my little Millie is not here to see this!"

Miss Hoover sighed, starting to grade papers, bored. Marge stood there murmuring in disapproval of the fight, and Lindsay watched with interest. "I wonder who will win!"

"Stop pulling my _hair_!" Helen whined.

"Oh, stop complaining about your ugly, grey hair!"

"Don't insult my hair! My husband says it's beautiful!" she pinned Edna down as well as she could.

"Oh, your husband probably just says that to get you to shut up!"

"At least I _have_ a husband!"

Edna rolled over onto Helen, glared at her, and then stood up. She had had enough. "Goodbye, ladies," she said politely, making a point to step on Helen on the way out.

Helen let out a gasp of air as Edna stepped on her stomach. "Goodness, she must weigh 150 pounds!" she stood up, smirking. The looks she was getting from the other women confused her. They looked so disapproving. "What?" she asked innocently.

"Oh, look at the time," Lindsay said, looking at her watch. "I forgot I had a meeting! Ta ta!"

"Lisa's soccer game!" Marge gasped, running out, as well.

"I have a date with a martini," Miss Hoover said with a sigh, gathering her papers. As she passed Helen, she said, "Edna is a friend of mine, and you've really hurt her."

Helen only showed only slight sign of guilt before Luann stepped down from the chair and said, "It would be best if you leave, too."

Helen suddenly panicked. "It isn't _really_ the girls' soccer game, is it?" She couldn't have forgotten her daughter's game, could she have?

"How should _I_ know? I don't have a little girl!"

Milhouse came down the stairs and appeared at the door in a frilly dress up skirt, holding a baby doll. "Mom, I can't find puppy goo goo!"

"Mommy will come up in a minute, sweetie!"

Helen raised her eyes at the child and said, "I'll see myself out."

* * *

Edna had driven home and was now packing a bag, her face tear stained. She was tired of this town. Everyone was uncomfortable around her now, and it was all Helen's fault. She despised that woman. She knew nothing about her truly and yet she still spread things about her. Yes, usually they were true, but there was reasoning behind it all, and Helen couldn't possibly know those reasons.

She threw her bag in her car, leaving her apartment the mess it was, not caring in the slightest. She planned to go to her sister's. There was really nowhere else for her _to_ go.

She called the Skinner house to tell Seymour to get a substitute for her until further notice. She was hoping to get the answering machine, but instead she got Agnes.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Mrs. Skinner, this is Mrs. Krabappel. Please tell Principal Skinner—"

"No need to be all formal," the old woman interrupted, irritated. "I know you are having relations with my son . . . and God knows who else," she added in a mutter.

"Please tell him to get a substitute for me until further notice . . . I'm leaving town."

"Hallelujah," Agnes muttered. "I mean, I'll be happy to tell Seymour . . . you slut," she hung up the phone.

Edna started to cry again. Everything was going wrong for her again. The only one who truly cared about her, it seemed, was Seymour, and here she was running away from him again. She only hoped this visit to her sister's would be beneficial.

* * *

Helen rushed over to the soccer field, seeing indeed a game was going on. She silently cursed to herself as she ran to get a seat beside her husband.

"It's about _time_ you showed up," Tim muttered.

"I'm sorry; I'd completely forgotten!"

Tim merely shook his head and turned back to their daughter's game, but did a double take, noticing his wife's appearance. Her hair was completely disheveled and her cheeks looked very red. "What happened to you?"

Helen tried to fix her hair while sighing. "Edna Krabappel and I got in a fight."

"What? Helen . . ." He said, disappointed. "We'll talk about this later."

Helen pouted a little, but knew there was no way out of it.

* * *

That evening, she found herself going to Edna's apartment to apologize, on Tim's demand. Finding Edna not home, she shrugged, figuring she was off with some man. However, to her disappointment, her husband made her go to the school that Monday and apologize that way.

Upon going to Principal Skinner's office, she asked politely if she could see Mrs. Krabappel.

Seymour frowned. "I'm afraid Mrs. Krabappel isn't here. She went out of town suddenly. You wouldn't have any idea as to why that is, would you?" He looked at Helen coldly, knowing very well that this was her fault.

"No, I haven't the faintest! Well, good day to you!" She smiled and wheeled around, her smile fading slightly. Had she run Edna out of town? Had she really accomplished that? She was more powerful than she thought. She smiled smugly to herself, quite pleased.

* * *

When Edna arrived at the doorstep of her childhood home, her sister greeted her with a small smile. She had called ahead of time, for dropping in unexpectedly to someone you rarely spoke to would not be kind at all.

Her sister let her in the house, taking her bag for her and putting it in her old bedroom. Edna followed her, noticing the room had never been redone since she had been here last. She shut her eyes tightly, not wanting to remember the past for she didn't think it was any better than the present.

They went to the living room and sat across from each other at a distance—Edna on the couch, her sister in an arm chair. They both sat so straight and stiff, staring at each other, feeling awkward.

Her sister finally spoke, as her fingers drummed on the arms of the chair. "So, you've finally given up?"

"No," Edna replied shortly.

"You should. It makes things much easier."

"I can't give up. I need a man!"

"You're wasting your time. You know we're cursed."

Edna raised her eyes. "We are _not_ cursed, Jenna . . ."

"Yes, we are. You cannot deny it." The woman drew her knees up to her chest, hugging them. "Mother went through what you're going through all of her life. Where is she now? She's dead, Edna. She's dead."

Looking at her sister, Edna noticed what terrible shape she was in. Her long brown hair was pulled back as it always was; nothing unordinary there. But she looked so thin and frail, her eyes were wide and the bags under her eyes were bigger than any she'd ever seen. Clearly, the girl was lonely, too, even if she wouldn't admit it.

Her sister had lived in this house her whole life, and with all the terrible memories in its walls, she couldn't imagine it being healthy. She, herself, had wanted as far away from that house as possible, and she'd been reluctant to return today.

Seeing her sister in such a fragile state made her wonder why she didn't keep a closer eye on her. It seemed like every time they came in contact it was because of a crisis, usually of Jenna's. She had taken refuge in different things—drugs, gambling, cults . . . She had been in both drug rehab and jail at least once.

Her sister seemed so tense, it scared her. "For God's sake, have a cigarette or something!"

"I quit smoking."

"Well, can't you relax?"

Jenna sighed. "I'm sorry, Edna . . ." She went over and sat beside her sister, hugging her arm. "Please don't leave me."

Edna frowned. "Dear, I'll stay for a while, but I have to get back to Springfield. You could come with me, though," she offered with a smile.

"No!" her sister screamed, making Edna's eyes widen. Jenna pulled her knees back to her chest and rocked a little. "I must stay here."

* * *

When Helen triumphantly told her husband how she had managed to run Edna out of town, Tim was far from amused. "How can you be so proud of yourself?"

"She deserved it, Tim. She is so immoral! If I hadn't done this, God was sure to have thumped her sooner or later. I think I did her a favor."

"Helen, it is one thing to gossip—which I nor God appreciates at all, but you were using it for evil."

"I was using it for justice!" she insisted.

"Helen, you _manipulated_ Edna; you hurt her badly. That is not something to be proud of."

"But . . ."

"I want you to go pray hard because you're really going to need forgiveness for this."

Helen frowned. "But Tim!"

"_Helen._ Now." He pointed to the stairs.

"Yes, sir." Her face fell, and she slowly walked up the stairs to their bedroom. She fell to her knees beside their bed and started sobbing. She hadn't felt bad at all until this moment. Maybe the things Edna did were not nice in God's eyes, but it didn't justify her own evil doings. She did as Tim asked of her and prayed, hoping it was not too late.

* * *

Edna stayed a week with her sister, making sure to get her out of the house. She wanted her to know that there was more to life, that she can be happy. She doesn't have to get tied to a man; she could still mingle though. Being single can be fun if you just try.

She couldn't seem to convince her that they were not cursed, but she did convince her to get out of the house some. Edna had enjoyed being out in a town other than her own—away from those people she had gotten so tired of being around.

As she was getting ready to leave, she hugged her sister goodbye.

"I truly had fun, Edna."

"I'll call you," Edna smiled.

"Promise me something."

"Anything."

"Please dump the Seymour guy. I don't think you're going to get anywhere if you keep dragging him with you."

Edna frowned. "I can't promise you that, but I will try, Jenna." Though she'd been trying for months and failing.

"You should just give up before you hurt yourself, honey. You cannot deny that your life is not going anywhere."

"But I have to try or it never will! Giving up is not the answer!"

Jenna smiled. "Well, your bedroom is always here."

"Thanks."

Edna hurried away from that house. She had enjoyed the time with her sister, but the way her sister looked at life concerned her. She wouldn't be sucked into that mindset. Trying may only be leading her to failures, but not trying would be settling for definite, permanent failure.

She called Seymour on her way home and told him she was on her way back and would be at work on Monday. He sounded so delighted and cute.

_Ugh, Why must you do this to me, Seymour?_ She didn't have the heart to get rid of him . . . not yet.

* * *

The drive took a good three hours, and when she got to her apartment, she was in for a surprise. Once she flipped on her light switch, there were shouts of "Surprise!" All around her was not only a clean apartment, but most of the town was crammed in her living room.

"Uh . . . What is going on?" Edna raised her eyes.

"We wanted to apologize for how we've been treating you," someone said; however, many shoved Helen to the front.

Helen was looking down at the ground but finally took a deep breath and looked up. "I'm sorry, Edna. I went too far this time."

"Yes, you did," Edna crossed her arms.

"I promise to only use my gossip for good from now on!"

Many gave each other doubtful looks.

"Don't even bother promising that," Edna rolled her eyes. "How the Hell did you all get in my apartment?"

Seymour stepped forward, holding up his spare key.

Edna smiled. "Was this your idea?"

He nodded.

"How sweet of you . . . And all of you came."

"Things you've done in your past aren't our business," Marge smiled.

"Nor is what you're doing now," Luann added.

"But we'll be sure to know with Helen around!" Lindsay laughed.

Helen sighed, blushing a little.

"Helen, it's fine," Edna said. "Yeah, I've been with a lot of men. So what? It's just me trying to find my place. One day I hope to settle down, but for now . . ." she shrugged.

"You're entitled to do as you please."

"That I am . . . This is all sweet, everyone, but . . . would you all get out?"

"Gladly," Apu said. "I need to get back to the Kwik-E-Mart! But first I must apologize for saying you were easy. I realized that wasn't very polite to say to your face."

Edna smiled. "Thank you, Apu."

"And I'm sorry for . . . What did I do?" Barney scratched his head.

"Nothing . . ."

"Oh, good! So why am I here?"

"Come on, Barney, let's go back to Uncle Moe's," Moe took Barney by the arm, leading him back to his bar.

"Alright!" Barney cheered.

Once everyone else cleared out, Seymour remained. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"Why are you sorry? It was kind of you to do this, Seymour," Edna smiled.

"No, I mean I'm sorry for existing . . ."

"What?"

"If you didn't have me around, you wouldn't have gotten into this mess." He looked down, sadly.

Edna walked over and touched the man's chin, pulling him to face her. "Seymour, it's my choice I keep you around. If anything, it would be your fault that I leave, but I'm still here."

"Sort of," Seymour muttered.

"Hey, take what you get," Edna smirked, wrapping her arms around him in a hug and kissing his ear.

"I'm not complaining," he said sheepishly.

"Good because . . ." she started whispering in his ear, causing him to blush. She took his hand and led him to her bedroom. She really did appreciate his (and the town's) gesture, and she wanted to repay him.

Sitting upon her bed, loosening each other's clothing, they heard something that sounded like a couch coming from under Edna's bed. She peeked underneath to find Seymour's mother. "Agnes?!"

"That's Mrs. Skinner to you!" Agnes crawled out from under the bed.

"Mother?!"

"Don't be so surprised. I'm watching you." She looked from her son to Edna before leaving. "Be back by nine, Seymour!"

"Yes, Mother," Seymour sighed.

Once the woman was gone, Edna said, "It could've been worse. It could've been Helen Lovejoy!"

They chuckled and went back to what they were doing. Little did they know, Helen was trying to see through her window outside.

"Helen, hurry up before someone sees," Tim pursed his lips, from on the ground under the balcony.

"Hold on!" Helen insisted.

"Helen, I'm going to leave you here."

"Oh? I have the car keys!" she looked down at her husband, dangling the keys and giggling.

Tim rolled his eyes.

Helen saw Seymour seemed to notice something at the window, and she ducked. "Tim, catch me!"

"Catch you?" Tim raised an eye.

"Please, Tim!" Helen panicked, crouching to jump.

"Fine," he held out his arms. Being caught up in her silly schemes was nothing new to Tim, but he would always give in because he adored her.

She jumped, and he caught her, but nearly dropped her.

"Be careful, Tim!"

"Well, if you weren't so heavy . . ."

"I beg your pardon!" Helen pouted.

Tim chuckled and kissed the top of his wife's head. "You never learn, do you?"

"Huh?"

Tim didn't answer her.

"No, really, Tim. What are you talking about?"

Clearly, she had not learned.


End file.
